


Pulled Down By The Undertow

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane and Shepard's relationship is still new, and there is something that's still hanging over them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulled Down By The Undertow

Emotions were complicated. That seemed to be a galactic trait. The only species that seemed to have an easy time of them were the salarians, which, all things considered, probably was only because their lives averaged around forty years. Next to vorcha, who really seemed to only barely cross the threshold for sapient species, so how much they counted was debatable, they were the shortest-lived species in the galaxy.

That lifespan discussion created an interesting dilemma for Commander John Shepard’s emotions. When he was born, he could anticipate an average life of about a hundred and ten years, maybe a little more. He’d joined the Alliance, the military, and, with the genetic mods that they were given, that average could probably be bumped up by a couple of decades. And, given the upgrades that Cerberus had done, he could easily assume that he’d hit one fifty without issue. 

And then, to top all of that off, he had gotten himself in a relationship with a man who was measuring the rest of his life in months.

It was odd to think of. Thane’s Kepral’s Syndrome made any relationship with the man a doomed affair from the beginning, and yet... Something with Thane had clicked. 

Shepard really didn’t know what had drawn them together. Had it been the fact that being on a likely suicide mission had drawn them close, a brief flicker or spark that would burn bright and falter quickly? Was it the fact that they felt death looming made them willing to accept what comfort they found, regardless of who offered it? Or was it that something between them was a shared connection, that Thane’s impending death, Shepard’s death and resurrection, and the shared experience of whatever this Suicide Mission would offer, had forged something between them, something that made what they had real, a solid foundation for the future, whatever may come.

Maybe Shepard was just a hopeless romantic, but he liked the idea of the last of those best. 

Regardless, he and Thane had found each other, had come together. For whatever time they had together, Shepard wanted it to count.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the CIC, he saw Kelly look up at his arrival. “Good morning, Commander. I’m glad you’re here.”

Her tone said it was business. Shepard swore that if she was telling him that the Illusive Man was on the QEC for him and was refusing to let Shepard take the ship anywhere in the meantime, he’d shoot the hologram. It’d do nothing but damage the bulkhead, but it would at least offer him some desperately needed satisfaction. _Or maybe I should take Thane in and make out with him, see how the Illusive Man and his human superiority take it when I ‘forge stronger relations with non-humans’ right in front of him..._ As amusing as the image was, it probably WAS a bad idea. Didn’t make it not fun, though...

“What is it, Kelly?”

“It’s about Thane, Commander.” That got all of Shepard’s attention. Although Shepard had been making an effort to keep his relationship with Thane private – that’s exactly what his personal life was, thank you very much, he didn’t need it to be part of the ship’s gossip mill – he hadn’t been able to keep Kelly from figuring it out on her own. Shepard couldn’t help but wonder if some of the bugs on the ship were hers instead of Cerberus’ or Miranda’s. Still, he knew he could trust her to keep it quiet. After all, she was a licensed therapist, which put plenty of things in under ‘doctor-patient confidentiality.’

So her concern made Shepard concerned. “What about him?”

“I’ve noticed he’s been distracted the last couple of days. He’s seemed rather distracted, distant. Even more so than he was when he came on board.”

“Has he spoken with Kolyat?” If anything could distract Thane, it was reasonable to assume that his son had some involvement. He hoped that he could prevent Kolyat following the same path he had, becoming an assassin. It had been the thing that had started his relationship with Thane, how he’d helped Thane cross that chasm that had split the two of them.

But Kelly shook her head. “This began in between a message from Commander Bailey and a letter from his son. It seems unlikely that his son is the cause. I think he might have been slipping into memories. He’s had that far-away look that seems to come from him lapsing into his memories, though I haven’t heard him describing his previous surroundings.”

That made Shepard worry more. Thane had once remarked about how easily it could be to slip into memories. “If a memory feels as real as life, it’s valid as life,” he believed Thane had said once. 

“I’ll go speak with him. If anyone else tries to get in touch with me, tell them I’m busy. Including the Illusive Man.” The Illusive Man had developed some kind of a knack for recognizing exactly when Shepard had something planned to do that had him relaxing and not being concerned for five minutes about Reapers, Collectors, or Cerberus, and deciding that was the time to call on him for some mission that required his immediate attention. Likely it was one of the various bugs that Cerberus had all over the ship that tipped him off.

Kelly nodded. “Understood, Commander.”

Shepard made his way to the Life Support area of the Normandy, where Thane made his home. He had never knocked before entering prior to them coming together, but since then, he’d made it a point to be slightly more observant of Thane’s more reclusive nature. He rapped on the door, waiting for a response. None seemed to be forthcoming. 

So Shepard opted for captain’s privilege and simply opened the door. “Thane?” he called out. Although Life Support wasn’t a large room, he still wanted to give Thane a moment or two to prepare for him to come in. He stepped inside enough to allow the door to close behind him, taking the few further steps into the area of the room that Thane had adapted into a living area. 

Thane lay on the cot, his eyes flitting in the fashion that usually indicated that he was reliving a memory. The times he’d done so in Shepard’s presence, however, had always involved him narrating the past events. This time he was completely silent. While that might just be because he’d entered the memory when there wasn’t someone here with him, it still concerned Shepard.

“Thane?” he asked, slightly louder than before.

That seemed to jerk him out of the memory. “Shepard. My apologies. I was... in a memory.”

“I thought you said once that losing yourself in your memories was dangerous.” Shepard couldn’t help the note of concern that broke through his voice. Part of him was afraid that Thane might do that, give in to his memories, especially if the symptoms of Kepral’s Syndrome got worse and started causing him pain. There were times he used his own more positive experiences as anchors during painful times, using that to keep him steady. For a drell, perfect memory and a tendency to lapse into reliving them could make for an easy escape in the middle of a disease that would ultimately kill him. Shepard knew he didn’t have the sample size to really tell, but he felt that Thane slipped into memory more than was probably healthy – lapsing into memories so vivid they became reality during a conversation seemed to be a problem from where Shepard stood. Maybe it was him applying human attitudes to alien ones, but it was all he had to go on.

Thane didn’t quite make eye contact. “It has been known to happen, on occasion. However, you need not worry. I am able to distance myself when necessary.”

Shepard crossed his arms, not pleased with that answer. He knew a brush off when he heard one. “I knew a lot of drug users back on Earth. That was the same line they’d give every time someone suggested they were addicted. Can’t remember any of them not being addicted.” Shepard knew it was a low blow, but he was concerned about Thane.

Thane gave him a look, the same one he’d given him when Shepard had compared the hanar and drell’s Compact to slavery. “Shepard-”

“Thane, I’m worried about you. Kelly’s noticed you’ve been distracted lately, and then I come in here and you’re in a memory. Indulge me my concern.” He reached out, placing a gentle hand on Thane’s shoulder. “Please.”

For a moment, Thane didn’t meet his gaze. “I... have been considering some things as of late. Certain matters, of both the past and the present, and I was attempting to find my answers in my memories.” It sounded reasonable enough. But if it was having this kind of effect on Thane, there had to be something more to it. 

“What’s been on your mind, Thane?” Shepard asked.

It took Thane a moment to compose his thoughts. “You have been many things to me, Shepard. A friend, a confidante, and... far more than that.” They hadn’t settled on any kind of terms for what they were, other than simply ‘in a relationship.’ “It has been a beacon in darkness that I expected to be the final months of life to be. And yet... I did not anticipate or even hope that this would happen. Now that it has... I worry that perhaps I have in some fashion... dishonored Irikah.”

Shepard hadn’t expected that. “You think that... being with me is dishonoring your wife?” Shepard knew that he probably should have looked more into drell customs and beliefs more, but he hadn’t had the time and, so far, it had seemed that Thane was more than willing to share his beliefs when and where they clashed with Shepard’s.

“I am... concerned about this possibility. It is why I felt that I should consult my memories of Irikah, to see how she might have felt about... this.”

It was difficult for Shepard to really get his mind around that, but that had been something of a common trend when it came to the concept of the perfect memory of the drell. “And... Did you find any insight?”

Thane was silent for a long moment, one that unnerved Shepard. “I do not know. We knew that my work was dangerous, that I had left enemies in my wake. I’d thought I’d been careful, but, I was not careful enough, as we both know. We’d spoken of what she should do in the event of my death, but... We never made plans for if she were to precede me, never spoke of how I should proceed in such an event.” He shook his head. “I can find nothing in my memories that tell me what she would have thought.”

Shepard was no drell, obviously, but he had his own thoughts on the matter. “Thane, you knew your wife. You didn’t need to consult memories like this. You knew your wife. Would she want you to spend the rest of your life miserable, living in memories?” If Irikah had loved Thane the way Shepard thought she had, she would have wanted him to move on, especially given his disease. If he could find any element of happiness, a light in the dark, surely she would want him to embrace it, not simply hold on to memories of the past at the expense of the future, no matter how short that future might appear to be.

Thane looked to Shepard. “You make it all sound so easy. To put her aside. To honor you as I did her.”

“I’m not asking for that. I know that what you feel for me isn’t the same as it was for your wife. You’re not the same man you were when you met her.” Shepard reached out to gently cup Thane’s face, keeping their eyes locked. “Thane, can you say that she would disapprove of you being happy in whatever time you have left?”

For a moment, Thane was silent. “You are asking me difficult things, Shepard. All my life, there has been certainty. In agreeing to serve the hanar, I knew my purpose. I was to serve as their hand. Their arm. Their weapon. When I left their service, my only skill, the only way I could provide for my family was to offer that to others. Despite losing Irikah, there was certainty in that as well. Yet now I find that where it comes to you, I am anything but certain.”

“That’s life, Thane. It’s not wrong to be uncertain.” Shepard couldn’t help but laugh. “As much as I act otherwise, I’m rarely sure of what I’m doing. There is no certainty, especially when we want it most.” He moved from Thane’s side to directly in front of him. “Right now, the only certainty we have is that this mission is one we may not come back from. So tell me. Is this what you want? No what Irikah would have said. Do you want to continue with this?” 

There was a long pause as Thane considered. “Embracing uncertainty is not an experience I have much familiarity with.” Then he looked Shepard in the eyes, a smile tugging on his lips. “Yet I have certainty in you. Perhaps that is enough.” Gently, he pressed his lips to Shepard’s. “Forgive me for my lapse in belief.”

With his concerns put to rest about Thane’s mental state, Shepard smiled. “We all have our crises of faith, Thane. What matters is that we deal with them together. If you’re ever left questioning things again... You remember that, okay?”

“I will try to remember.”


End file.
